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'Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.

George Edward Moore

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George Edward Moore
Age: 84 †
Born: 1873
Born: November 4
Died: 1958
Died: October 24
Philosopher
University Teacher
London
England
George Moore
George Edward Moore
Time
July
Cheeks
Rose
Summer
Sorrow
Cropped
Youth
Washed
Though
Cheek
Long
Roses

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Can't I another's face commend, Or to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead louers, As if her merit lessen'd yours?
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Beauty has wings, and too hastily flies, and love, unrewarded, soon sickens and dies.
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I'll tell thee what it says it calls me villain, a treacherous husband, a cruel father, a false brother one lost to nature and her charities or to say all in one short word, it calls me - Gamester.
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Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.
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The lot of critics is to be remembered by what they failed to understand.
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I am free in performing an action if I could have done otherwise if I had chosen to.
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Honesty needs no pains to set itself off.
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Now, in my opinion, a woman has no business with Power-Power admits no equal, and dismisses friendship for flattery. Besides, it keeps the men at a distance, and that is not always what we wish.
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But from the hoop's bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound.
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The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.
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